


Partial

by goresque



Series: Taken In Hand [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Master/Pet, Not enough negotiation, Oral Sex, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21815140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goresque/pseuds/goresque
Summary: After a lunch date, Megatron and Optimus engage in a scene that doesn’t go quite as planned. They still clang each other’s bolts off.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Series: Taken In Hand [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571881
Comments: 7
Kudos: 110





	Partial

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is the kink club au I have Thats mostly just little strings stretching out into different places. Originally came from an OP/Meg fic I was writing but I decided it was time to kill my darlings and focus on the bigger picture. 
> 
> Anyway have some porn.
> 
> Sometimes sex is aftercare!
> 
> All you need to know about Megatron and Optimus's relationship is they’ve only started their play very recently. Optimus is fairly new to kink. Megatron is not the only dominant Optimus is playing with.

The drive to Megatron’s hab wasn’t long. He lived in an apartment block close to the city center, where Optimus lived not too far away. Despite its central positioning, the apartment was modest. It’s most attractive feature was the floor to ceiling window, which drew Optimus immediately.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, engine humming a tune of content as he watched mecha below drive.

Servos came up behind him, circling his waist and sliding slowly up his chassis. Optimus shuddered, his vents falling open and his armor flaring out so Megatron’s deft fingers could dip between his seams and stroke all the delicate cabling and wiring that most lovers ignored.

“You are,” Megatron rumbled. He used one hand to spread Optimus’s thighs as he turned his helm with the other, catching him in a kiss straight from the smelter. “Open,” he growled against Optimus’s lip plates. “Let me taste you.”

Optimus’s modesty plate fell open faster than he could give it permission. He found his back pressed against the window with Megatron lowering to his knees. Mewls of horrific, embarrassing desperation echoed through the apartment as Megatron threw one leg over his shoulder and buried his face into Optimus’s folds. Optimus threw his helm back so hard he saw static dance across his optical feed.

Megatron feasted upon him like a starved animal. He licked and sucked Optimus’s glowing anterior node, before he nibbled along one lip. Megatron’s glossa slid against the opening of his valve, then up and over the anterior node again, all the while his optics staring up at Optimus like a predator stalking prey. If he weren’t being held up, Optimus was sure his stabilizers wouldn’t have been able to hold him.

Optimus’s hands pressed back against the window, his helm thrown back as he held back from grasping Megatron’s helm and riding his tongue like a wild mechanimal. He hadn’t even realized his optics had shuttered until a firm servo gripped his face, thumb and fingers on either cheek. Instinct pulled his gaze down to the mech holding him still; his engine whined at the lack of stimulation to his array. “Sir-“

“Shh. Don’t be greedy, my pet. Look at your owner when you’re being given a gift.” Megatron was grinning, denta sharp and his optics crinkling at the edge like he knew something Optimus didn’t. “I need you to focus, before we go further.”

Optimus’s engine whined once more, but he quieted his fans and nodded. His loins ached with the promise of Megatron’s intake, with the memory of it. It had been heavenly, warm and firm against his node, and then Megatron stopped.

“We seem to have forgotten our negotiation,” Megatron purred, as though that had been his plan all along- to have Optimus at his mercy before they discussed their session. “I’m not looking for anything particularly intense, however…”

Optimus straightened up a bit, nervous of what Megatron would want from him. Their kinks were compatible in most cases, but there was still a fear of the unknown future.

“I want to spank you,” Megatron said, something like desperation in his tone. “I find myself in a rare mood to inflict something harsh on someone beautiful. You’ve done nothing wrong,” he added, before Optimus could apologize, “I am not angry with you. It is explicitly not a punishment, thus you may stop it at any point. It would be cathartic for me, but only if you would enjoy yourself.”

Optimus nodded along. He had yet to be punished for any actions as a submissive, but they’d done spanking before. It lit a fire in Optimus’s tank to think of Megatron’s sturdy, broad palms coming down on his aft. He readily agreed. “I’d enjoy that very much.”

“But before I spank you,” Megatron purred, a single clawtip circling around Optimus’s anterior node. “I’m going to pleasure you with my mouth. I will have you weak, crumbling atop me. I will bring you to the edge of overload, perhaps more than once, and only then will I spank you. Then, when you’ve taken your spanking, I will let you overload.”

Optimus’s spark spun wild in his chest. The prospect of being lead to the edge of overload, and kept there, was tantalizing. He’d been edged before, many times, and not every time had been fun; however, having the plan laid out for him with the promise that he would eventually overload only made him want it more.

Full of static, Optimus said, “Please, Sir.”

“Good, Pet.” Megatron tapped Optimus’s spike sheath, still unopened. “Release your spike. I thought I’d taught you that you are to bare your full array when we play.”

“Yes, Sir, you did,” Optimus said, a full-frame shudder overcoming him as Megatron’s words were accompanied by a sultry lick to the base of his spike. “I apologize. I forgot.”

“I don’t need your excuses. Whatever your reasons, you did not obey.” As Megatron mouthed up the biolights along the side of his spike a claw slid between his valve lips. Optimus keened, his hips grinding down onto Megatron’s servo. “I’m going to have you weeping, Pet. You will beg to overload before this cycle is done.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Optimus murmured. There was little that could prepare him for the wet heat of Megatron’s intake as he sucked down his spike, his derma sealing against the sensitive housing at the base. Charge crackled along his plating, and Optimus cried out as his optics flared. The burst of energy directly from his array had his leg twitching over Megatron’s shoulder. The electricity tingled, tangible over his paint. Megatron sucked, sweet and long as two digits slid up into his valve with a vengeance. The claw tips curled up, seeking out the cluster of sensors behind Optimus’s anterior node.

The glide of Megatron’s digits were accompanied by a firm pressure against his anterior node, stroked internally and externally, as Megatron swallowed down his spike. Optimus’s vocalizer cut to binary. The rush under his plating had his hips grinding down, his valve hungry and throbbing for more than just the two fingers given to him. “Oh, please,” he keened.

Megatron paid him no mind. His wicked glossa stroked the braided plating of Optimus’s spike, his free servo gripping the head as he suckled where the spike housing met Optimus’s node. “Now, pet,” he purred against Optimus’s pulsing node, “Is that any way to beg?”

“No, sir,” Optimus gasped out, needy valve twitching against Megatron’s derma. “Thank you for putting your intake to me, sir, please don’t stop!”

“That’s it.” Megatron’s engine rumbled, smug in the wake of his submissive’s pleasure. He stroked his glossa up the piping of the spike, teasing the edge of his slit. Optimus’s prongs bubbled with energy, giving Megatron a delightful zap when his glossa dipped between them. Every stroke with his tongue was punctuated by the slide of his digits, curling up to fondle Optimus’s internal node cluster.

It was as if the energon in his lines had caught fire, blazing through his struts in waves. Optimus arched, his other pede leaving the floor from the visceral attention paid to his array. The fire lapping at his lines had him floating, as if he’d left his frame, cables tightening in promise of deliverance.

And then, he stopped.

Megatron stopped.

A choked moan escaped Optimus as Megatron’s free servo gripped him at the apex of his thigh, manhandling his frame into place. He pressed both palms against the window, suspended against the glass with both thighs encircling Megatron’s neck.

“Tell me, pet. Are you disappointed?” Megatron was circling Optimus’s pulsing node in lazy circles.

Optimus bleated static, nodding in frantic desperation.

“Mm. Yes. I’m also disappointed.” Megatron stabbed his digits back in, sinking all the way to the ridge of his servo. It had Optimus jerking up, a slight twinge from Megatron’s talons. “Disappointed that my pet did not meet my expectations.”

Optimus’s spark plummeted to his pedes. The word disappointed echoed in his audials, settling in his tank like rot. His thigh twitched as Megatron curled his digits in a come hither motion against his internal node cluster, drawing a sob from him. The ache of Megatron’s disappointment filled his tank, prompting him to say, “Y- yellow.”

Megatron was quick to act, pulling his digits from Optimus’s valve with a gentleness he hadn’t expected. His valve clenched on nothing, hungry for the stimulation he was denied. “Are you alright, Optimus?”

His own designation pulled him even further from his headspace. Optimus’s plating rattled as he tried to pinpoint exactly why he needed to pause. The jarring displacement had him shuddering, a sudden chill coming over him. “I-“ he started, before his vocalizer clicked. He halted, shame curling around him as he realized exactly what it was. He held his face in his servos, afraid to meet Megatron’s gaze.

He wasn’t allowed to hide. Megatron tipped his helm up with a single digit beneath his chin. “Optimus. Speak to me.”

His field uncoiled, rife with indecision, shame, and arousal. Optimus clenched his fists as he lowered them into his lap. He wanted his overload, desperately so, but he was unsure if he wanted it enough to have to saddle Megatron’s disappointment. “I need a moment.”

Megatron nodded, lowering Optimus to the floor. He knelt beside him, waiting with a patience Optimus hadn’t anticipated.

“Please don’t punish me,” Optimus whispered, unable to meet Megatron’s gaze. “Please don’t punish me breaking rules.”

“It isn’t a punishment,” Megatron nudged.

“It feels like one.” Optimus’s fists tightened, his engine whining from the ache in his thighs. His hydraulics had flagged, his spike recessing into its sheath. His thighs felt cold with old lube, clammy and unpleasant.

Silence followed. Optimus shuddered, afraid Megatron would argue with him.

Instead, Megatron took his servos away and nodded. “I’m calling an end to this session. I think I have pushed you to a limit and I am not comfortable proceeding.”

Optimus felt numb as he nodded along, a distraught ache in his slick valve at the thought that he wouldn’t be receiving his overload. His servos reached out, hungry, desperate as he pulled on Megatron’s spiked pauldrons. “Can we…?”

Megatron purred into the touch, leaning forward to curl his servos around Optimus’s thighs once more. He lifted him, having Optimus settle his legs around his waist. “We can interface without being in a session, my dear, if you so wish it. It would be such a waste of your charge.”

“Please,” Optimus begged without a second thought, pressing his pelvis down against Megatron’s steaming panel. As Megatron moved them through the hall and through a door he pulled the mech’s helm towards his own, forcing their mouths against one another. He was desperate, needy from the teasing he had been put through. Optimus grunted as he was deposited on a berth, Megatron standing above him.

Optimus arranged himself comfortably, gaze caught on the transformation of Megatron’s panel folding away.

During sessions he had only been permitted to see his dominant’s spike once, and he had only been allowed to appreciate the sight with his optics, as opposed to his intake and his servos like he had wanted.

But he wasn’t a submissive right now. Right now he was an equal to Megatron, splayed out on his berth as a lover and not as his pet. That in mind, Optimus wrapped a servo around his own softened spike, languid strokes lighting up the biolights along the braided plating to bring himself back to full pressure. He pushed his knees up on the berth, putting space between Megatron and himself in an effort to tease. It worked better than he could have imagined.

Megatron grasped him by the pede, yanking him back down the berth until his knees hung off the edge. Megatron pressede between his legs, using a servo to slap his thick spike against Optimus’s swollen, wet folds. He leaned down to catch Optimus in another kiss, moaning with the frantic need of his free servo sliding along Optimus’s thigh.

“I have wanted my spike in you since I first laid optics on these,” Megatron growled out, servo stroking Optimus’s silver thigh. His hand slid under his aft, giving a squeeze so hard his metal groaned.

“Then frag me,” Optimus challenged, fingers seeking out seams and cables to catch. He was eager to show Megatron he was no simpering submissive outside of a scene. He had a reputation as an outstanding lover and he intended to stand by that. “I’ve been prepared enough for a shuttle. Take me.”

The feeling of Megatron’s spike splitting him open around the head was exquisite. More than exquisite, it was perfect. It was everything Optimus had been hoping for, his valve swallowing the spike with ease. There was a ridge right below the head of Megatron’s spike that caught on the rim, tugging inward as he pushed. Optimus’s frame arced off the berth, hooking one leg up and over Megatron’s hip to pull him in deeper. Every node and ring of sensors alight as Megatron bottomed out.

Optimus pushed back against the mech, his aft grinding on Megatron’s anterior node as his valve clenched and fluttered without rhythm. Megatron refused to move beyond adjusting his hips, rocking against Optimus until their hips met with grinding sparks.

Having had enough teasing, Optimus pulled Megatron in for a kiss and used the opportunity to shift their weight and positions until he had Megatron below him. Knees on either side of Megatron, Optimus rotated his hips with devilish sensation. When he pushed forward just so, he could feel Megatron’s jack sparking against his internal plugin. It didn’t connect fully; just enough to swap a rope of charge and have him suffer twin convulsions.

Optimus grasped for Megatron’s servos, pulling them to his waist, just above his hip flares. “Touch me,” he gasped out, rolling his hips forward once more to get that delicious feedback of Megatron’s jack in his port. Every nudge sent jolts of electricity through his spinal strut, his optics glowing bright with the charge. His thighs trembled from the effort it took to keep him upright, but he ignored it in favor of riding Megatron hard enough to dent the berth.

Touch him Megatron did. He tweaked one hip flare as his other servo roamed up to Optimus’s windshield, pawing and pushing against the seam to leave lurid smudges and prints all along the glass. Optimus’s optics streamed light as his chest partition was pried at, as if Megatron were trying to arrest his very core.

One servo lay on his hip, thumb digging into the transformation seam at the junction of his hip and his loins. The other had digit tips curling under a windshield, lighting Optimus on fire from two different anchor points. The spike inside of him curved against his internal node cluster in a new and exciting way with every jerk of Megatron’s hips.

Optimus’s pace slowed as he adjusted and leaned back on Megatron’s thighs. One servo wrapped around his spike while the other moved to the berth to hold his weight, already moving with an unhurried stroke. The new stimulation had Optimus throwing his head back, intake unhinged and praising Megatron’s spike.

Megatron growled, hips jerking up in a desperate frenzy. Before Optimus could react, Megatron had him on his back, knees pushed up against his windshield. Every push and pull of their frames shot lightning through him, grounding in his ceiling node.

“Megatron- Megatron!” Optimus howled, his overload creeping over him like rust. His HUD went black and his synthesizer fritzed, bleating static. His optics and biolights streamed light until his whole frame was so wracked with sensory input he went limp and offline.

When Optimus rebooted, he found himself laying on his side, a slick ache between his silver thighs and Megatron curled up behind him, stroking his audial fins. His engine groaned, and he pushed back against Megatron purely for the firm feedback.

“You’ve returned to me,” Megatron purred, leaning down to kiss Optimus’s audial.

“I have,” Optimus said, his glyphs full of static. He shifted, as if to rise up, and then let his frame go limp once more.

“How do you feel?” Megatron’s servo was still swiping down his audial, up and over his eyebrow ridge, then down his cheek. “You’re still running hot. I didn’t break you, did I?”

“Not broken,” Optimus said, slow to catch up with Megatron’s questions. “Tired.”

“Let me take care of you,” Megatron whispered against his throat cabling. “I’ll tell you what will happen if you agree.”

Optimus grunted his assent, a tired arm coming around Megatron’s neck to pull him down.

The first thing Megatron did was kiss his cables once more, barely scraping with a fang. “I’m going to get a chamois and wipe your pretty mess up. As much as I love seeing your lovely thighs a wreck, it’s not quite fun to power down in. Then,” Megatron punctuated his glyphs by moving a servo down to squeeze Optimus’s thigh. “We will wipe down the berth and get comfortable enough to take a stasis nap. Is that agreeable to you?”

“Yes,” Optimus murmured, wondering exactly when he would be allowed to power down.

“Yes, sir,” Megatron prompted.

Optimus responded by throwing a pillow.


End file.
